Page 20 of Reap & Sow

Mr. Night’s expression betrayed nothing save for a flash of raw, visceral hunger. “Very well. How, young bishop, do you propose to gather such a number within a few short weeks?”

“Blackbridge is a festering boil upon the face of Wesland. The people here have forgotten the ways of the Faithful. They must feel the ramifications of their impiety if they are to return to the Lordfather’s light. With your help, I can make the presence of the demonic felt more than ever in this city. They shall flock to the Faithhood for protection—and I will offer it to them. They need only agree to dedicate themselves to the Lordfather in return. A formal promise bound by blood. When enough have signed, peace will be restored.”

There was a pregnant pause. Then cold laughter. “You mean to trick the city into signing away their years to me.”

“Only a few years each. Nothing that would arouse suspicion. Should enough sign, that is all you would need. And they will sign.” Fane’s voice dipped. “They will not be free of fear until they do.”

Horror roused bile in Eda’s throat. Demonic magic could bend nature, but not break it. Above all, demons could not alter free will. No mortal could be forced to sign a Pact. But it seemed they could be tricked. If the wording were spun just the right way, if the meaning could be interpreted differently…

Mr. Night clearly knew this too. He towered over Fane, as close to excited as she’d ever seen him. “And you, Florian Fane. You will be the hero that saved this city from ruination?”

“My only desire is to restore Faithfulness where it is needed most. The Patriarch is weak,” Fane spat, eyes aflame, “as were his predecessors. Should a leader not be willing to stain his own hands if it means guiding his flock true? Seek the greater good? I am willing to bear this burden. I am but an instrument of the Lordfather’s will. All I need is the power to make them heed me.”

“Yes,” the demon sneered. “Naturally.”

Fane’s jaw tensed. “Details must be discussed further, of course, but this is my offer—assuming you can provide that which I require.”

“If it’s fear you want, Bishop, you shall have it.”

“Then we have an accord?” Tentatively, Fane extended his hand.

Mr. Night did not even look at it. “One matter remains. There is another of my kind, hiding somewhere in this very city. He has figured out a way to evade me, but it is vital that he dies.” His voice rang low and cold. “He is a skilled shape-shifter. You and your Blades kill him, and I will grant you another boon. Whatever is in my power to give.”

It was Fane’s turn to grow excited. “I accept.”

“Wonderful. Oh, and Bishop? About the Shaws. You say you’ve arrested them.”

“I have.”

“All three?”

Fane hesitated. “One eludes us yet. But she will be found.”

“Hm. I daresay wherever she is…she should start running.” Mr. Night’s eyes snapped to Eda’s.

Horror struck her like an anvil. She jerked in shock, and her foot squeaked upon the ladder.

Fane whipped around.

Shit.

“Jessen, quickly!” The bishop lunged for the grate, but she was already half falling down the ladder, adrenaline rushing like a flood. The sounds of commotion echoed down the chute after her, but none seemed so loud as Mr. Night’s dark, melodic laughter.

The sewer system beneath Blackbridge was a city all its own: an ancient labyrinth of tunnels stretching on for miles like a great rabbit warren. Murky, rancid water rippled and reflected off low ceilings lined with stone. The undercity carried both fresh and wastewater from the surface, but the potent stench made it hard to imagine anything besides foul residing in these channels. Eda scurried along the narrow walkways, her urgency not quite crushing her fear of slipping and falling in. It was hard to see.

Behind her, echoes dogged her steps.

The Blades were following.

Take the right. Through the access gate. Keep heading east. She repeated it to herself over and over until a set of iron bars appeared in the gloom. Eda threw herself against the door. It didn’t budge. She scrambled in the dark for a lock, but there was none. It was simply thick with rust.

Come on!

She rammed the door with her shoulder, hard enough to bruise. The iron rattled in complaint. Shifted an inch. Eda threw herself against it in desperation again and again.

Shadows flickered around the bend of the tunnel. She pushed with all her might, toes digging in, and with a groan the gate finally gave enough for her to squeeze through.

“She’s over there!”